


but i crumble completely when you cry

by jaureguivibes



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: A bit late but still yes, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Laurel says yes, Marriage Proposal, around s5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaureguivibes/pseuds/jaureguivibes
Summary: In which Laurel comes to Frank's, her bloodstream full of booze, and tells him "Yes."
Relationships: Laurel Castillo/Frank Delfino
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	but i crumble completely when you cry

**Author's Note:**

> finished the show in almost a week and now i'm obsessed with them. they really deserved better. i couldn't edit this properly and it might be a lil ooc but i hope you guys still enjoy it! <3

There is a knock on his door.

He groggily stands up from the couch and walks towards the door. The walk isn't graceful, he is tired and (he wouldn't ever admit this to anyone) but almost drunk. He’s had a few too many drinks tonight. It is almost midnight, he’s about to go to bed and is certainly not expecting company. So when he opens the door without even checking who it is, a stumbling Laurel surprises him.

_Marry me, damn it. I can't._

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Laurel sighs with relief. "I was worried you wouldn't let me in."

"I shouldn't have,” he grumbles.

Though Frank had no intention of letting her in this apartment ever again, she seems very keen on stepping foot inside. There is that look in her eyes that appears when she is intent on getting what she wants. She pushes Frank gently on the chest and walks into the dim-lit apartment.

That simple touch brings all those memories back. Those memories that Frank has been trying too damn hard to forget, to drown in this goddamn bottle of scotch. Her touch is intoxicating, just like the way she looks at him with those puppy dog eyes. That sinful, beautiful, mind-blowing shade of blue makes him feel like he’s drowning.

"I miss you, Frank,” she whimpers, not even fiddling with the words like she usually does. She has her back to the door and now he can see the state she's in. Her hair’s a mess, her cheeks rosy, her eyes red and wet. The light of the streetlamp did a great job of hiding the dishevelment of Laurel Castillo. But Frank's eyes saw right through her, just like they always do.

She keeps looking at her, staring through his soul. Under her stare, the knots in his soul untie and he almost feels naked, like she can read his mind. He thinks it is possible. After all, she is the one that knows him better than anyone. "You're drunk," he barely manages to whisper.

Laurel laughs but it isn't a sincere one, it's airy and dies down like it was never there. "So are you." This position right here is too familiar. They’ve been in this damned position way too many times before. After a long day in class, before leaving for the courtroom… Their bodies are nearly pressed together, it is almost like Frank can just lean in and steal a kiss from the love of his life.

But that can't happen anymore.

"Where is Christopher? Shouldn't you be, you know, with him and not at my place?" Frank pulls away and walks towards the kitchen to pour himself another drink. Being that close to her is definitely too much for him to handle but Laurel follows him like a puppy, as expected.

She watches him drink with sad eyes. "Michaela and Asher are babysitting tonight, it's fine."

The thing is that it's not fine. It is not fine at all. Laurel can't be here, simply existing and trapping Frank under her spell once more. Here he is, doing everything he can to get over her, working out, going for jogs, having a drink, having another drink… And what does she do? She just appears on his doorstep with those sad eyes and the smell of vodka and tequila lingering on her body. Like she never broke his heart, _like she never said no._

_I can’t. I’m sorry._

"You sure they won't start banging in the middle of it? You should go and check."

"You want me to leave so bad, don't you?"

In all honesty, he does. He wants her to leave and maybe move to a different goddamn state so he will never have to see her beautiful face ever again. He wants to be able to turn his back or just close the door on her. He should be yelling at her, making her feel guilty for rejecting him after everything he’s done for her. But he's had one too many drinks tonight. One too many. "No,” he almost softens.

Almost.

Laurel grabs the glass, _his glass,_ from the kitchen counter, and finishes it in one gulp. This certainly doesn’t seem to be the first shot she did tonight. "You do, it's fine,” she shrugs.

"You think I don't get to be mad at you?"

"I am saying that you _do_ get to be mad at me. It's fine Frank. I deserve it."

As much as he loved her (who is he kidding? He _loves_ her), she can be annoying sometimes. Especially when he has been up for too long and she is drunk. He wants to cut to the chase, find out whatever the hell she has to say to him."Why are you here, Laurel?" he asks. He spits her name out like it is venom. Like it is poisonous, killing him from the inside.

And it is killing him on the inside.

"I miss you," she says once more. Like it is a fucking valid explanation. Like she gets to miss him. Frank’s face toughens up once more and they are back at square one. She should’ve worded it better. _Christopher missed you._ That would’ve sufficed. After all, it could never be about _them_ , about how she feels anymore. She has lost that chance a long time ago and they both know it.

So Frank laughs and Laurel can’t blame him. " _You_ miss me?"

She nods.

"Damn it, Laurel you don't have the right to miss me right now. Do you know how hard the past few weeks have been for me? Do you know how fucking terrible it is to see you, smiling, doing your thing, and then remembering that you _used_ me for months, that I never meant a goddamn thing to you? Do you know how much it fucking hurts me to see you with Christopher and think of the future we could've had together? You, me, the baby. I would have done everything to keep you two happy and you sure as hell know that.”

"I know."

"So tell me why the hell you're here or get the hell out! Because those drunk _I miss you_ s aren't gonna cut it anymore."

He realizes that he's being too loud and probably scaring her off. He doesn't care. He deserves to be able to get it off his chest. To hell with being mature. Laurel deserved to be yelled at, to see how much pain she's caused him. Even if a part of him still hurts, even if a part of him still wants to say sorry when he’s done nothing but try to make her happy.

She stays silent, which is very out of character for her. 

Then he looks her in the eye, something that he is too afraid to do. Because he knows that he will get sucked in like nothing happened; like she was still a 1L and he was never hurt by her. He remembers them being reckless, touching each other whenever they could, and coming home to each other. He remembers waking up next to her and wondering what he ever did to get this lucky. Because after all those murders and horrible crimes he committed, he sure as hell didn't deserve to have an angel by his side. And soon enough, he was right.

Laurel sniffs and Frank is back to the present. There are tears flowing down Laurel's eyes, her lips are trembling with every breath she takes. Frank does his best to look but something about Laurel is captivating, as always. It is almost as if she is pulling him right back in. "I am sorry, Frank," she whispers like she hasn't said it a million times. _I can't. I'm sorry._

"Stop it."

"No, listen- I am-"

"I don't want anything to do with you, Laurel. So either say something important or get the hell out."

He sure as hell doesn't mean it. But the brokenness in Laurel's eyes makes him realize how good of a liar he is. Laurel cups her face with her hands and leans on the kitchen counter. It hurts to see her like this, of course it does. He can lie to himself for days and tell himself that it doesn’t hurt, but it does. Frank might be a monster to everyone else but not to Laurel, he was never a monster to Laurel.

Seeing her cry like this, especially because of what he's said, kills him. 

He wants to hug her, rub her back, and tell her everything's gonna be okay. But he can't do that anymore. So he just waits there, with his booze-filled heart breaking into tiny pieces, while Laurel sobs.

"I used to think so highly of myself," she says, pulling her face from her hands. There is a slight smile on her face as she reminisces. "I got into Middleton, became a part of Annalise's damn cult, had a high GPA for like a semester. I was gonna do something good, Frank. Be what my father could never be to the world. I was gonna do everything I could to… Be better than him. Even after all the shit we went through, I still believed that. That there was still hope for me, that I could be what I wanted to be."

She laughs but the sound barely even comes out. Frank wants to throw every promise he made to himself out the window and just hug her, embrace her. She looks too damn broken for him to not do that. She looks like _she needs him._ And Laurel knows that she goddamn does. She needs Frank more than ever.

"I realized that there is no going back. There is no becoming old Laurel, no reaching those goals. I have to live with _this_ , with those mistakes and murders and all those dead bodies… Here I am, in my mid-twenties when I believed I would be one of the greatest defense lawyers my age... Instead, I have a record full of crimes and a baby whose father is never gonna be around."

Laurel looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and Frank gets it. It was how he felt when he caused the death of Annalise's baby, when he killed Lila, when he did everything that he did. He looks into her ocean blue eyes and _he understands her._ She doesn’t need to say another word; she never had to say another word.

"I'm sorry,” she whispers.

"Stop apologizing."

There was a time when all Frank wanted to hear from Laurel was an apology. Not a half-assed one like saying _I'm sorry. I can't_ but one that explains everything. Bonnie has told him it was simple. _She doesn't love you, Frank. Let it go._ He has refused to believe it. There was no way that Laurel didn't love him anymore, that she never loved him. It just couldn't be. In his eyes, they were always meant to be together, from the moment he set eyes on her. And she had to know it too. This was too big of a secret for only one of them to be aware of.

Laurel takes a deep breath. "I hated you, Frank. When I found out what you did, when you told me. I wanted to hate you and I think for a moment, I did." He remembers all those voicemails, listening to them and drowning bottles of alcohol after alcohol. "And then I couldn't. I could never hate you, Frank. I am just... Not wired to do that, I guess." Laurel has never been this honest with her feelings and Frank believes it must be the vodka. He doesn't remember seeing Laurel this drunk ever.

"It's okay," he replies. He doesn't even know what is okay. He sure as hell is not and apparently, neither is Laurel.

“I’ve loved you, Frank. I’ve loved you, I swear.” She sounds like a little kid, about to crumble completely. Her trembling voice makes Frank think that she might break down at any moment right now. The rawness of her words awakens something in him. His heart starts beating again and only then Frank realizes that he has been dead for the last couple of weeks. “I’ve loved you when you’ve picked me to K5, I’ve loved you when I learned you killed Lila, I’ve loved you when you left and didn’t come back for months and I…” She closes her eyes for a brief second. Normally, Frank would’ve believed that this was her preparing to lie. But this time, it’s real. They both know that there is no doubt. “I love you, Frank. I still do. And something in me tells me that I never stopped and I’ll never stop too.”

They stand in silence for a second.

"I kept telling myself that I didn't love you, that I _couldn't_ love you. Because you had too much you kept hidden from me and I didn't know if I could ever accept those things about you." Frank thinks that she has a point. But that was years ago when Laurel had only been AK's student for a year and she wasn't this involved in everything that they were doing. "But now _I know_."

He raises his eyebrows, everything about this moment feels too fragile. "You know what, Laurel?"

Laurel fimbles with her pocket, only to take out something that Frank can't really see. Then she gets down on one knee, her drunkness barely allowing her to do so. "Frank Delfino," she says, opening her palm to show a pink toy ring (one Frank assumes that's from Laurel's childhood) "I know this ring is tacky and pink isn’t really your color and it's too late and I messed it up before but... Will you marry me?"

Frank pinches himself. This feels like a weird fever-dream. Vodka induced Laurel appearing on his doorstep with a toy ring and proposing to him in his kitchen. He laughs. "You're not real, right? I'm just gonna wake up and realize that this was just a damn dream, that you never came here and that you still don’t wanna see my face ever again."

Laurel laughs nervously, struggling to keep herself on one knee. "I'm real but I am about to stumble and fall if you don't give me an answer." She shakes the ring in front of his eyes with a widening smile on her lips. "Hint: You're supposed to say yes."

"And why would I do that?"

She pouts. "Because this ring is goddamn cute and it'll look nice on you."

This has to be a weird scotch-induced dream.

"Get up," he says, his voice thick with confusion.

Laurel's eyes are filled with anxiety. She knows that there is a possibility of him saying no, a very strong possibility in fact. She would have nothing to say back to him because she knows that she deserves it, deserves being told no. She doesn't deserve Frank, maybe she never did. And who's to say that he still loves her? He shouldn't love her. He must’ve moved on already. This whole thing was a huge mistake and if anyone ever asks about it, she can just say that she was too drunk to remember any of this. Her mind starts running at a thousand miles a minute and she has to remind herself to breathe. _Breathe, Laurel._

"Get up, Laurel,” Frank repeats himself.

And she does. Frank takes the ring from her palm and places it on the counter. Laurel feels like her heart is being ripped away. (Or maybe all those shots have just made her more of a drama queen than she already is.) "Why?" she murmurs. She doesn't want to cry, not for this, not when she knows that she didn’t deserve a yes. She can cry when she gets home and no one is awake and Christopher is fast asleep in his crib. "Frank, I'm sorry I didn't mean to make this worse. We can just pretend that this never happened and I swear I will never bring it up-”

Instead of letting her finish, Frank presses his lips against hers.

Just like that, they are back to square one. Every single memory comes back to life when their bodies are pressed against each other. She remembers the first time they did this, how she felt like her whole body was on fire and she realizes that it has never changed. Whenever Frank touches her, whenever he kisses her like this, she comes back to life.

Frank realizes that he has been in a damn coma this whole time and only now he is awake. He is awake when Laurel’s lips are against his and when he can smell her shampoo. He is awake when her body melts into his, when she caves to his touch, when she lets Frank mark his territory like this. They are too damn familiar with each other's bodies. This is a complicated dance that they are great at and they know it.

He doesn’t waste another second before wrapping his hand around her waist. She tilts her head to deepen the kiss, one hand on his neck. They both taste like alcohol and sadness but the latter seems to vanish as they get lost in each other's touches. They take deep breaths in between kisses and then keep trying to devour each other. Frank knows that if he didn’t need oxygen, he could do this forever. Because this is _it_ for him. Being close to Laurel, touching her, kissing her, feeling her come closer to him… This is what makes his life worth living right now.

Then he pulls away, he has to. Suddenly, Laurel's body goes cold. She forgets how she’s been staying alive without his touch and his lips on hers.

"Yes,” he says, startling Laurel out of her haze.

"Huh?"

He laughs and this time it’s a genuine one. "I'll marry you."


End file.
